I... we, don't have a choice. We're expected to simply accept our father's rules and abide by them no matter what. It's like he expects us to be perfect little robots, operating exactly as he commands. We never get a chance to make our own decisions, to be our own people. We're just supposed to blindly follow his orders and do whatever he says without question. It's suffocating and oppressive, and it's wearing us down. "We have to make a deal with him," Michael said, his voice tinged with frustration. "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling the same frustration. "A deal that can set us free," Michael said, his voice desperate, as if he was grasping at straws. Just then the father came into the room, seemingly perfect timing. I looked to Michael, expecting an explanation but instead he just said, "Just trust me." I had no idea what he was talking about and I could tell, he was just as confused as I was. We were in a bind and I had no idea how we were going to get out of it. "What are you two talking about and what does it have to do with me?" Father asked. When he asked what we were talking about we froze. I honestly didn't to know what to say, but even if I did I wouldn't say anything. It felt like my brain had completely shut down. There was nothing but silence, until, father spoke up. He scolded us for not speaking up and told us to get out of the room. His voice was gruff and harsh, and I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment. I wanted to disappear. I knew that he was mad at us, but I couldn't understand why he was so angry. We were simply having a conversation, what was wrong with that? I wished he would just let us be, but I knew that was impossible. He always had a time and a place to ask questions, no matter what - usually when it was most inconvenient for everyone else. His questions were always ridiculous, too, and he always expected a detailed answer right away. He never seemed to understand that not everyone has the same level of knowledge that he does, and that sometimes it's just impossible to answer his questions right away. He's so arrogant and annoying, but what can you do? He always had his time and place to ask his silly questions.
"I, uh, we wanted to talk to you," Michael stated, his voice wavering. Father raised his eyebrow and said, "What is it? I have things to do and I'm sure they can wait. Is this really so important?" Fear crept up behind me and I could feel it right behind me, my heart racing. "Um," was all I could say, I was too afraid to speak. Father scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Spit it out already. You obviously have something to say, so say it already." His voice was gruff and impatient and I had to force myself to stay standing in front of him. The room was silent, silent for too long. His face twisted into a scowl and he sighed with annoyance. "Well, if you don't have anything important to say, I suggest you get out of my sight. I'm busy, I don't have time for this nonsense," he snapped, finally broke the silence. I grabbed Michael's arm and practically dragged him along as I sprinted away, scared out of my mind at what might happen if we didn't. I was so terrified that I couldn't even think straight and all I could focus on was getting us out of there. I didn't even care that I was hurting him with my death grip, I just wanted to make sure we were safe. All I wanted was to be far away from this nightmare and I wasn't going to stop until we were. I mean, come on, who knows what kind of mess we'd be in if we'd stayed there? We were probably better off running, although I was tempted to just stay and see how it all played out. Safer than sorry,